Don't Let Go
by overlookedmunchkin
Summary: During his battle with cancer, Jack Frost meets Elsa Vintre in a support group, who is in a similar situation. The two immediately connect. As the two fall deeply in love, Jack is well on his way to recovery, but Elsa suddenly deteriorates. Jack faces his biggest challenge of his arduous life: losing the one he loves. Loosely based on The Fault in Our Stars.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Frozen or ROTG. Or TFIOS. **

Chapter 1

I sat beside her in the bland, sterile hospital room, holding her limp, cold hand and fighting back tears. The only sounds interrupting the stifling silence were the monitors beeping and the occasional rasping breath that fought its way out of her chest.

I gazed at the face of the girl I loved. Her face was ashen, her lips parted slightly and colorless, and her head lolled lifelessly on the spotless sheets of the hospital bed. Above all, her eyes were concealed from me. Those beautiful blue eyes that I had lost myself in countless times were gone. I would never see them again.

The sight tore at my heart.

I struggled to keep my expression impassive, but a war of emotions was raging on inside of me. I thought of what she had told me her counselors had said to her: "Conceal. Don't feel."

I remembered her rolling her eyes as she left that particular session. Complete and utter nonsense, she had told me. Then she had grabbed both my hands, laughed that vibrant laugh of hers, and ran down the hill, pulling me along. She had tripped halfway down and we tumbled the rest of the way, landing in an unruly heap at the bottom. We were covered in autumn leaves and scratched by the stiff grass, but couldn't stop laughing.

It amazed me that even when she knew she was dying, she continued to smile. She continued to laugh. She continued to punch me and call me an idiot at least once a day.

I tore my eyes away from her face for a moment to gaze affectionately at the bruise on my right shoulder that had been present from the moment we clicked.

I was jerked back to the present when she shifted ever so slightly and gave a sigh. Realizing that my reminiscing had caused me to tighten my grip on her hand, I relaxed it a bit and whispered her name.

A few seconds later, I just about fell out of my chair, for she had opened her eyes. The doctors said she would be in an impermeable coma until she…passed.

Thought her face was sallow and emaciated, her piercing blue eyes as fiery and vivacious as ever. My heartbeat sped up as her gaze raked me. She looked amused as I hastened to regain my composure.

"You look terrible." Her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper, but I had never heard anything more beautiful.

Overwhelmed, I could only gape dumbly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you've been crying. You know I can't stand it when people cry."

I knew. She had always hated the stares of sympathy that followed us when we walked hand-in-hand in public. She hated the sickeningly sweet voices of the nurses who cared for her. She hated how everyone treated her as if she was a fragile glass figurine because of the cannula that was wound through her nose.

I hastily scrubbed at my face and felt her hand tighten on mine just a little bit.

"Look at me," she whispered, her voice softening. "I'm not going anywhere."

When I opened my mouth to diagnose her with denial, she added fiercely, "And don't you dare tell me otherwise or I'll drag my cancer-riddled, dying body off this bed and punch you."

I could not repress a small chuckle. I glanced ruefully at my right shoulder again. "I'm going to miss this bruise."

She cracked an impish half-smile. I could see some light returning to her face. She didn't look as deathly pale as she did a few minutes ago. I felt like I had been gored in the chest by a unicorn.

With great effort, she turned her head an inch towards me. Her grip on my hand tightened so powerfully and suddenly that I winced. "You feel how hard I'm holding your hand? I'm staying with you. I won't ever leave you. Nothing will ever take me away from you, understand?" her eyes bored intensely into mine.

"But you're…" I trailed off weakly.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I'm dying. I know that, you idiot. That's not the point." She paused and took a deep breath. "I'm glad to leave this goddamned world. I'm glad to leave all this pain. I'm glad to leave everything behind. But I'm never leaving you. Never."

She lifted a trembling hand, gritting her teeth, and stroked my cheek ever so gently. "No matter what, I'm staying. I'm staying." Her voice was trembling with emotion and she choked on the last word.

Her eyes filled with tears. She never cried. Never. She was the strongest person I knew. I felt tears burning at my own eyes.

Her hand went limp. The color drained from her face. She leaned back onto her bed, exhausted. Before her eyes closed again, she gazed at me with so much passion that my insides burned. Her voice barely an audible, she whispered, "I love you, Jack Frost."

Overwhelmed, I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I love you too, Elsa. Always."

**I'm not done yet :). Next chapters will be the events leading up to this point in the story.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Please note that I am a perfectly healthy girl in her early teens. My knowledge of cancer and its treatment is extremely limited, but I'm doing research. I promise.**

**Btw, this is all from Jack's perspective. I'm considering doing some chapters from Elsa's, though.**

Chapter 2

It was the summer of my sixteenth year. I had just gotten my driver's license and was looking forward to my final two years of high school, graduating college, and pursuing a career in architecture. I excelled in school, ran in the cross country, and was very popular and had many friends. My grandmother had even started pinching my cheek and asking me when I was going to get married, which I always laughed off. Life was carefree. I had never been happier.

Then one day during school, I collapsed. I woke up staring at a spotless white ceiling with IVs in my arm.

Boom. Stage four acute leukemia.

The nurse smiled what she thought was an encouraging, sympathetic smile. "The good news is, two out of three people today with cancer can survive up to five years!"

I smiled back and thanked her. Then I went home and locked myself in my room, not eating, drinking, and refusing to come out. I lay on my bed for two days, staring at the ceiling.

Frozen.

It was dark, and it was cold, and I was scared.

When I finally emerged, I looked in the mirror for the first time in 51 hours. I stared at my reflection, taking in the dark circles under the eyes, sunken cheeks, and unhealthy gray pallor. Gone was the life in my gray-blue eyes and the sheen of my naturally silver hair.

My family tiptoed around me, talking in hushed voices whenever I entered a room. Classmates whispered, pointed, and stared. Close friends suddenly became distant and awkward. Everywhere, all the time, sympathetic stares followed me. You'd think I'd enjoy people being so nice to me, but honestly, it really weirded me out.

I hated everything.

Life became a blur, a whirl of doctor's appointments, therapy, treatment, medicine, and a rapidly diminishing social life. I ceased laughing and smiling and showing any emotion whatsoever. A dull ache seized hold in my bones twenty-four hours a day.

That's when my parents decided to take responsibility for my well-being and signed me up for a local Cancer Support Group.

I was sure that listening to other people exactly like me talking about their experiences would only worsen my depression. My parents practically dragged me into the car kicking and screaming, and I sulked the entire 20-minute trip while my mother and father tried to engage me in conversation.

As I limped toward the dingy community center, I seriously considered ditching and spending the two hours at the nearby mall. However, I knew that my parents would grill me about every detail of the Support Group as soon as the two hours were over. With a sigh, I trudged through the door, anxious to get it over with.

Much like I had expected, an overly cheerful, plump, middle-age woman greeted me with a blinding white smile, introduced herself as Ms. Toothiana and ushered me towards one of the small plastic chairs arranged in a circle. I looked around. A motley group of teenagers filled some of the chairs.

There was a little girl that looked barely over the age of eleven with a peaked face and eyes that looked too big for her head. She reminded me painfully of my own little sister at home. I tore my gaze away from her and saw a few people with prosthetic limbs. Not wanting to stare, I glanced at the guy sitting next to me. He started to lift his shirt and said, "Hey, wanna see my scar?"

I was right. This place was depressing the hell out of me. I jumped out of my chair, politely refused the guy with the scar, and decided to make a run for it.

The lady who had greeted me was now steering some other kid in a wheelchair towards the circle. I inched towards the door, pressing against the wall. When I saw that the woman's back was turned, I dashed towards the open door as fast my aching joints would allow me.

I ended up running smack into another person who was entering the building as I was making my escape.

The girl staggered back, wincing and nursing her forehead, and I was thrown completely flat, mentally cursing my cancer-weakened bones. Before I could give the person a piece of my mind, Ms. Toothiana rushed over with her demonic smile and beamed, "Oh, Elsa, I've seen you've met our newest addition!" I groaned internally, knowing I had missed my chance to run away.

As Ms. Toothiana chattered introductions, I stood up slowly, refusing to let my pain show. I stared at the girl standing before me.

She stared awkwardly at the floor, unwilling to meet my gaze. Strands of platinum blond hair fell into her face, which I could not see clearly because her head was down. She wore a pair of black, tight, jeans and a pale blue T-shirt. Around her neck was a delicate silver chain with a snowflake pendant dangling from it.

Ms. Toothiana's chirpy voice faded into the background. All I made out was this girl's name: Elsa Vintre.

I wish I could say that time stood still, her beauty transfixed me, and all that other romantic stuff from movies and books.

I couldn't.

At the time.

Honestly, I was still a bit peeved at this girl because of her very badly timed intervention with my daring escape. I had no choice but to sit in a dismal atmosphere for the next two hours.

Ms. Toothiana stopped talking and went to greet another kid, and I was about to turn around and go back to my seat when the girl suddenly raised her head and locked her gaze with mine.

We stared at each other for a good ten seconds before she tore her gaze away and went to sit down.

The Support Group meeting went by in a blur, and before I knew it, it was time to go home. I had refused to look at the girl again for the entire session.

My mind wandered to the stored image of that girl on the car ride home. I tuned my parents' questions out and stared out of the window.

I wondered why I couldn't get her face out of my head.

She wasn't exactly breathtakingly beautiful. She had a cannula that was inserted through her nose. Dark circles under the eyes, painfully thin limbs, and a sickly pale face. The eyes themselves, although wide and crystal blue, looked hollow and lifeless. She had an aura of defeat, despondency, and vulnerability.

Why was I so intrigued by her?

All of a sudden, I knew.

I pictured her face before me again. Her gray expression, her air of exhaustion and depression, her empty eyes…

It was like looking in a mirror.

When I looked at her, I saw myself.

My parents were shocked when I readily agreed to attend the next session of the Support Group.

**AN: Elsa's last name, Vintre, means "Winters" in Norwegian.**

**Thanks for reading ****J****.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I continued attending the Support Group for another month. The trees shed their leaves in a whirl of red, gold, and rusty brown. When every last leaf had fallen, the trees stood ominous and barren, starkly outlined against the steel-gray sky. The air became frigid and stung my eyes and nose whenever I went outside. As the temperatures dropped, I often woke to an intricate pattern of frost decorating my bedroom windows. Snow would be falling soon.

I had grown to love the cold. I found that it alleviated the constant pain in my body by numbing me. When the cold came, I no longer sat in front of the fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate like I used to. Instead, I went and stood outside for hours, welcoming the iciness that spread through my body. The cold didn't only take away my physical pain, however. If I stood outside for long enough, I felt like the chill would spread eventually to my brain, essentially numbing my senses as well as the throb in my body.

I had learned to live with death constantly haunting me. As the doctors had so nicely told me, it was likely that I could suddenly drop dead at any moment. Everything I did, everywhere I went I had to live with this continuous shadow looming over my shoulder.

The light had faded from my world.

The cold helped me deal with that. The numbing of my nervous system helped me forget my imminent fate, if only temporarily. The only time my mind was at ease was when I stood outside on the sidewalk at five in the morning, breathing in the bitter air with my eyes closed, dressed in only a T-shirt. My family thought I was crazy and my neighbors were convinced I was a crackhead, but hey, it worked.

It was the middle of December. My parents' car pulled away as I made my way towards the community center for my fifth Cancer Support meeting. It was the same every time: I sat in the same exact chair, refused to look at the guy sitting next to me's scar, introduced myself to the group, and zoned out on Ms. Toothiana's blathering. It was as boring as hell, really. I told myself that going to this group weekly actually did help boost my morale.

Nope.

I went because of her. Elsa Vintre. Her very presence made me feel oddly at home ever since I realized that

She was just like me.

I started to notice odd things about her. How she stood perfectly straight while I tended to slouch, how she sat with her left leg crossed over her right with her hands clasped in her lap. How her hair was always arranged in a braid draped over her left shoulder and how I never, ever saw her without that snowflake necklace.

I never spoke to her and never looked at her (well, tried not to, anyway), and never heard her speak except for the mandatory introduction at the beginning of each Support Group meeting.

"I'm Elsa Vintre. Stage I small cell lung cancer. I'm doing all right."

As I walked across the parking lot, I noticed that soft white flakes had begun to fall from the sky. I stopped where I was to look up, putting my hands in the pocket of the dark blue hoodie that my mom had made me wear. The snowflakes began to fall faster and faster, collecting on the ground and the bare branches of the trees. They landed on my skin, stinging at first, and then dissolving into soothing pinpricks of coolness as they melted.

I don't know how long I stood there. I lost track of time as I often did, standing, unmoving, relishing the bitter cold that spread through my body. When I finally decided to head to the meeting, she was there.

Right beside me.

For some reason, I wasn't startled.

What really startled me was the fact that she was only dressed in a thin shirt that only covered down to her elbows in this negative-degree weather. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Aren't you cold?"

As I mentally berated my stupid brain, Elsa looked at me with those wide sapphire blue eyes. It was the first time we had made eye contact since we had met.

Only this time, her eyes didn't look as hollow and empty. There was some life, some sparkle in them.

After a slight pause, she answered, "The cold doesn't bother me. It never has."

Curiosity aroused, I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Why is that?"

She looked away. To my astonishment, a small smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth. "It helps me let go."

My eyes widened. Elsa continued to gaze off into the distance at the thickly falling snow with that serene smile on her face. The snowflakes caught in her eyelashes and pale flaxen hair. Her head was tilted slightly backwards as she watched the sky come down in tiny pieces of ice.

She looked so… so peaceful. It was as if the cancer had disappeared completely from her body as she gazed up at the clouds. As I looked at the expression of pure tranquility on her face, I almost forgot she had a life-threatening disease.

I wondered if I looked like that when I stood outside in the cold.

Without thinking, I shifted so that my shoulder was brushing hers. She tensed, and then relaxed.

"I know how it feels," I told her.

We ended up talking. I couldn't remember the last time I had a heartfelt conversation with someone. I learned that she had a younger sister named Anna whom she loved more than anyone in the world, and I told her about my own little sister at home. I was surprised when she informed me that she used to be skilled in martial arts before she was diagnosed. I told her about my high school swim team and how much I loved it.

It was only small talk, but it made me feel a hell of a lot better about my fate and myself.

We eventually exchanged phone numbers. Then I realized that we were supposed to be at the Support Group meeting instead of standing like idiots out in the now ankle-deep snow. I turned around, only to see the other cancer kids walking out of the community center to wait for their parents.

Oops.

When I turned back around towards Elsa, she was gone.

I'm still not quite sure how it happened, but we suddenly became friends. We took to hanging out at the mall after Cancer Support meetings. We spoke often. We texted and called each other.

It was two in the morning, and Elsa had just bid me goodnight after texting me a hilarious story about the time she and her sister got in trouble for calling a Mr. Weselton, a teacher, Weaseltown. The name had spread all over their school despite efforts to keep it in check.

I switched my phone off, aware that I was grinning like an idiot. All of a sudden, I was aware that

I couldn't feel my pain.

Of course, as soon as I remembered it, it came right back, but it made me wonder. I thought back on all the times Elsa and I had hung out, laughed with each other at stupid jokes, texted late into the night…

I was never conscious of my suffering when I was with her.

Before I fell asleep, I realized that I no longer needed to stand outside in the freezing weather to get rid of my pain. I had her.

She was my cold.

**AN: Thanks for following and reviewing, guys. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry sorry sorry it took longer to write this chapter; I was struck by a serious case of Writer's Block Disease. This combined with summer marching band practice (I am a TOTAL band geek) has been hampering me recently. As the school year will be starting up soon, I may be updating less and less frequently. **

**BUT DO NOT WORRY! I WILL FINISH THIS IF IT KILLS ME!**

**Bear with me, guys.**

Chapter 4

"Anna's always been popular with guys. She's been asked out more times than I've had doctor's appointments," Elsa said while stirring her smoothie with her straw. We were sitting in plastic chairs amid the hustle and bustle of the mall after a Support Group meeting. It was almost Christmas: lively carols played in the distance and a line of small children and their parents waited to visit "Santa."

I grinned at her from across the table. "Is that so? Well, I've always been more of a ladies' man myself."

"She once even had this really creepy dude stalking her and asking her out about three times a day at school. I think his name was Hans. He was a senior, and Anna was only a freshman. She was too nice to let him down, even if he was a bit cracked and she obviously didn't like him. Then one day he asked her to prom, with a fancy poster and expensive flowers and all. Poor Anna was terrified. Luckily I was there, and I was quite fed up with him, so I punched him in the face. Let's just say that Hans never bothered Anna again."

My eyes widened. "You seriously did that? Didn't you get in trouble?"

She shrugged. "Of course, Hans went whining to the office. Two weeks of detention was a small price to pay, though." Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

I shook my head in admiration. After a few months of hanging out with Elsa, I got the feeling that she was different from your typical giggly flowers-and-hearts girl. Instead of shopping at Forever 21, she dragged me straight into Sports Chalet when we were at the mall. She constantly expressed regret that she could only admire the shiny new sports equipment, as her "lungs sucked at being lungs."

I learned the hard way that her slender frame was packed with lean muscles from martial arts training since childhood. Once I had snuck up on her and scared her as a joke. She had responded instinctively by smacking me across the face. Although she had apologized profusely, I sported a bruise for a week.

Elsa was a strong girl who didn't take shit from anyone. She put on a tough exterior to protect her frail, mild sister and her friends who were being pushed around. She stood up for anyone who was too afraid to stand up for themselves. She told me that she used to get in a lot of fights: she absolutely despised bullies.

It's usually the guy who protects the girl in the story. Not this time.

I'll never forget the one time we were exiting the mall when some jerk made fun of my snowy hair and snatched Elsa's cell phone right out of her hands and tried to run away. I had thought it would be cool to play hero, chase down the bandit, beat him up, and gallantly return the phone to Elsa, only to have excruciating pain course through my bones and fall flat on my face. A split second later, the thug was lying on the ground, sobbing and clutching his groin while Elsa pocketed her phone with a smug grin on her face. She then turned to laugh at my prostrate form and offered a hand to help me up.

When she was diagnosed, she only hardened her shell. She distanced herself from her friends and family, especially from the sister whom she so adored. Anna told me once that she gave off an aura of bitterness and coldness, and she was virtually unapproachable. The spunky redhead was hurt and utterly bewildered. She had no idea why her big sister shut everyone out.

But I knew why. I understood.

Elsa isolated herself to protect her loved ones and herself. She confided that she couldn't bear to see them suffer on her behalf.

The day she told me this was the most sorrowful and heartbroken I had ever seen her.

It was the second time that she and I had hung out at the mall. Elsa had seemed upset, so I asked her what was wrong. She told me that Anna had suddenly brought home a new boyfriend out of the blue, her protective older sister instincts had kicked in, and she had completely lost it. Anna was furious and had responded by fighting back and leaving Elsa on the verge of tears.

(Note: on the VERGE of tears. I knew that the day I saw actual tears run down Elsa's face was the day the world would end.)

After she finished telling her story, she met my gaze with her eyes glossy with moisture. Concerned, I offered to take her to the restroom to wash up.

She half-smiled. "It's okay," she said. "My tears never fall. I don't let them."

She was right. Elsa blinked once, and her eyes had gone back to being as clear and deep blue as they normally were.

Her sheer resilience and spirit never ceased to amaze me.

I was suddenly jerked out of my reverie as Elsa's phone sounded. She took it out of her pocket and looked at it and said, "Oh, that's Anna. I should probably go; I promised I would help her build a snowman today." She sounded wistful.

Surprised, I said, "Oh? Are you guys on speaking terms again?"

As she packed up her stuff, she responded, "Yeah. Her 'boyfriend' turned out to be a cheating bastard and she broke up with him just a few days ago, so we made up."

She went on, "I had a long talk with Anna, and I've decided that shutting people out doesn't help me, or anyone. If anything, it's made things worse." Her voice dropped to just a little more than a whisper. "I've missed out on so many things in the months since I was diagnosed, and I can't let my cancer get in the way of my life. I mean, it's only a life-threatening disease."

I couldn't hold back my snort. "Only?"

She glared at me. "You're missing the point, idiot."

I chuckled. Little did I know that it would be the first of many times she would call me an idiot.

"And what brought about such a sudden change of heart in Miss Stubborn-Face?" I teased.

Elsa's face softened. She paused for a minute, holding my gaze with a strangely intense, fiery expression burning in her eyes. The temperature in the mall seemed to drop several degrees.

"You, Jack."

And with that, she spun around on her heel and was quickly lost among the crowd in the mall.


End file.
